


What If You Forget?

by hmsonny



Category: K-pop, NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-18 03:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14203686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmsonny/pseuds/hmsonny
Summary: Yours and Mark's love is like something from a fairytale, never have you adored a boy more. But does your adoration blind you from the tragedy that is inevitable?





	What If You Forget?

The atmosphere around you had grown noticeably colder, the night dropping its curtain upon the world as the people took their final bow by climbing in to their beds and curling up in the warmth and protection of several layered blankets; some in the company of a close loved one, others not, however all remained equally as content and peaceful. You huffed forcefully as you rubbed your uncovered hands together, pulling the hood of your sweater up around your neck in a desperate attempt to warm up despite having severely underdressed for this weather. As you paced swiftly up toward the entrance of the hotel, you took moments along the way to appreciate the beauty and calm the evening’s snowfall had left. The way it twinkled gently in the streetlight’s glow, the way it crunched beneath your trainers, the way the thin and few snowflakes still falling lightly grazed your cheek, and caused a sweet stinging sensation that turned your face to a pink blush. Although the cold weather was something you weren’t quite used to before getting together with your boyfriend, you felt sad that you were leaving Canada tomorrow. Being so close with Mark and his home country for the months you’d been there, the often snowy, chilly world had made you feel at home.

Mark had been a huge help in letting you settle in with your new surroundings, of course. Not only did he bring small yet meaningful memoirs of your home town and the people there – the snow globe, postcards, letters from family members, photos – but his presence too. Him just being there made your heart feel warmer. He’d done so much to help you feel more at home. You could never forget the third night in Canada, when you woke up in the early hours of the morning feeling overwhelmingly homesick, so much it made you ill. Mark spent the whole night and following day with you in his arms, a blanket around both of you, your body shivering violently, as he repeatedly reminded you how wonderful you were, and how it would be okay if you wanted to go back home. He only left your side briefly, to fetch a fresh bottle of water or some crackers, sometimes some soup to help warm you up even more. One thing you could never forget, even if you tried, was how he never stopped telling you how much he loved you.

“As long as I live, I’m never letting you forget that.” He softly whispered, his breath brushing against your ear as you snuggled in to his lap, the blanket enveloping you both in a bundle of warmth and love. His fingers were entangled in your hair as he lightly stroked it, his other hand rested gently against your shoulder, sending you off to sleep.

Fast forward a year and a half, and you only had one night left in the country you’d begun to settle in. Your shoes screeched against the obnoxiously steamed tiling as you walked through the hotel’s foyer, almost as if they knew this was the penultimate time you’d set foot across these floors. Three times your key card rejected, the red light on the lock flashing mockingly. You muttered curse words under your breath, knocking gently on the door. “Mark, love? Are you back?” You glanced at your watch. **10:32pm**. A light shuffling of feet came from behind the door, the handle pressing down slowly and the hinges creaking as your sleepy boyfriend appeared before you. He was wearing a pair of plaid lounge pants - blue and white - the waist strings tied meticulously in to a tiny bow. A plain white shirt consumed Mark’s slim frame, hoisted up and tucked in at the front above the delicate bow. Both his fists were lightly clenched, rubbing circles over his sleepy eyes before dropping to his side to see who he’d answered the door to after such a tiring day on schedule. When he recognised you, his dull expression instantly brightened. His eyes widened, a glow appearing deep in the brown colour you’d always adored, his pink lips lifting to a smile enough to show his perfectly white teeth, and just like the peaceful person he was, and always had been, he stepped out in to the hallway and took you in to his embrace.

“I missed you.” He whispered a few seconds later as he pulled away, his warm breath brushing your neck and giving you goose bumps. It was incredible how safe and calm you felt in his presence, even when he wasn’t this unbelievably exhausted. Even when you were both spilling buckets of energy, leaping across hotel beds and strumming your air guitars to too-loud music that provoked multiple complaints from hotel neighbours. Even then, you felt calm. Calm within yourself, within your heart – the inner peace Mark gave you never failed to scare you in the most beautiful way. A comforting fear you loved living in. He had the power to make you feel an overwhelming sense of tranquillity at any given moment, in any situation; your stress dissipating, muscles relaxing. No one had given you that before; no one had even come close. You just felt so safe with him.

Mark slipped his hand in to yours, intertwining your fingers and leading you in to the hotel room, letting you softly nudge the door so it clicked closed behind you. “Did they take the car rental back okay?” He asked, letting go again and walking across the burgundy carpet to the other side of the room, standing in front of the dark red curtains that hung menacingly over him. He kept his back to you, which felt strange, but you assumed was because he was tired and that meant in his books that he was ‘unpresentable’.

“They sure did.” You replied, slipping your trainers off your tingling feet and shuddering lightly at the sudden temperature change. The moments of silence that followed your response put you on edge. “Mark sweet, is everything okay?” You asked delicately, slowly beginning to move toward him. You saw his broad shoulders lower slightly as he let go of a hitched breath, before turning to you, a smile pasted across his undeniably sweet face that you could just about make out under the dimmed night lighting.

“Of course, silly. Why would it not be?” He winked, pulling you in to a hug once more, his hand rubbing your shoulder blades, while his other arm looped around your lower back. It stayed there even after he pulled away, as he closed his eyes and pressed his lips against yours. You snaked your arms up around his neck and kissed him back, his lips so wonderfully smooth and inviting. Every time you kissed it felt like the first time; another power Mark had over you.

You’d known each other quite literally since you were babies, your parents met one another on the maternity ward of the hospital and remained close friends even after you’d both been born; all along they’d joked about you both growing up and becoming an item. So far your story was unbelievably fairytale-esque – like something from a book. Now you were both turning 25, and every time you thought of everything you’d been through together, your heart exploded in to a billion tiny shards of love and admiration for the boy you loved so deeply. When Mark pulled away from the kiss, you stared in to his eyes. The colour and character of them almost too breath-taking for words. It was almost as if the brightest stars had been plucked from the sky and placed straight inside them, twinkling gently next to the silky chocolate puddle that surrounded. He kissed you again, a quick peck this time, before twirling and launching himself on to the double bed with a loud thud. A loud snapping sound erupted from beneath him, and Mark froze, time stopping for no more than a second before he begun laughing hysterically, curling up in to a ball and rolling around on the messed up blankets and carelessly strewn pillows.

“You’ve broken the bed, you absolute dumbass!” You squealed, grabbing the corner of the nearest pillow and thumping the back of his head with it, before leaving to the bathroom to prepare yourself for bed.

“Come to cuddle me _now_! I’m tired!” Mark demanded from outside the door, tapping on it repeatedly with his fingers.

“I have to get changed first, stupid.” You mocked playfully, causing the tapping to stop.

“You were already wearing a sleep-worthy outfit though!” He retorted, his voice quieter now as he’d moved back to slip his body under the three blankets piled on top of the soft mattress.

“No way I’m getting in to bed wearing make-up, Mr Lee – I’m not that tilted.” Came your snarky response. You sighed, rolling your eyes with a smile on your face as you smeared makeup remover across it and scraped it off with a cotton pad.

Half an hour later you emerged, in pyjamas similar to Mark’s; in fact, they probably were Mark’s. The dark blue bottoms went far past your feet, extra material dragging under your toes as you walked, while the black Adidas shirt was pretty much a dress on you. Now you thought of it, it also smelled strongly of his cologne. _His cologne_.

He’d worn the same ‘man spray’ – as he so wonderfully worded it – for the whole seven years you’d been officially a couple and every time he sprayed it, the gentle hissing sound tickling your ears, your heart swelled. It reminded you of those days in the summer that were sweltering hot, almost unbearable, but a light breeze would occasionally skim through the air, putting pleasant goose bumps on your skin and allowing you a deep and refreshing breath as you closed your eyes and relaxed in to the moment. It reminded you of the days near the end of spring, when you’d take walks through the emerald green countryside, stroking the soft muzzles of the new baby lambs that sprinted to you, their noses in the air and tiny tails whipping from left to right. That cologne was one of the most familiar, freeing scents you knew.

When you left the bathroom, you saw Mark curled up on his side of the bed, the blankets drawn right up to his chin – only a black flurry of hair visible from beneath. A smile rose on your lips as you admired him, the way his eyelashes swept the tops of his cheeks on his glorious cheekbones that always popped when he laughed, the way his gentle lips pouted as he dreamt. “I love you.” You spoke quietly, pecking his forehead and sliding in to your side of the bed, with great care not to wake up your sleeping beauty. Mark’s reply came shortly after, as you pushed your legs underneath the warm blankets of the bed and lay your aching head against the cold pillow. “I love you more; always. Don’t you ever forget that.” He said in a tired, gravelly voice, so quietly it was almost inaudible. You felt his arms snake around your torso as he pulled you close to him, so you were able to feel his heart beating against your skin; the sense of security and knowing that this boy had a safe guard of your heart rocking you in to the most peaceful sleep.

***

You woke suddenly during the night, jolting upright in your bed as you felt a chill race down your spine like a bolt of electricity snapping you in to consciousness. Goose bumps instantly lined your arms and legs as your body begun to shake, bitter cold taking a merciless hold of your body as the blanket slipped away from your shoulders. Your hand moved over to your left, feeling the space next to you – stone cold and unfilled by Mark’s sleeping body. Your head then snapped to the right to glance at the clock. The red boldness of the numbers told you **05:34 AM**. The cold breeze was coming from the sheltered balcony door – the blood red curtains had been swept aside and the sliding door was open mere centimetres, allowing the bitterness from the snowy outside to drift its way in to you. You reached a shaky hand to fumble around on the desk beside your bed, your hand knocking something that fell with a crash, before grasping a hold of the lamp switch, noticing how clammy your palms had already become from the slight panic. Where was Mark? And why was the balcony door open?

When the light clicked on, you could just about make out the outline of your boyfriend’s body through the windowed doors; jagged edges where he’d draped a fur blanket over his shoulders, his knees drawn close to his body as his back leant against the window you were looking through. Rubbing your eyes and working hard to focus them in the dim darkness, you pulled the blanket away from your lightly trembling body and grabbed for Mark’s sweater that lay slumped over the back of the desk chair, pulling it over you. You felt the chill begin to mist over your bare feet as they trailed over the rough maroon carpet, one hand clasping either side of the doorway as you slipped your body through the crack in the door. Mark was sat with his chin rested atop his knees, the mud-brown blanket draped carelessly over his shoulders as he stared out through the rusted black fencing of the balcony. He jumped slightly when he saw you out of the corner of his eye, before turning his head and smiling invitingly, lifting the blanket in invitation for you to join him. You accepted, sitting down on the sharply cold tiling and wrapping your arms around his torso, closing the fur around your shoulder and pulling it in to your lap so it covered you.

“Why are you out here at this time, baby? It’s freezing.” You asked, as he reached his arm over your shoulder, still remaining under your warm cover.

“I just wanted to watch the sky. I was going to wake you up, but you looked so peaceful.” He looked down at you, his unconscious magic spell once again letting you float in to a calm serenity. Slowly, he leant forward and settled a cordial kiss on your forehead, both of you tightening your hold on one another, not wanting to ever have to let go. “I really don’t want to have to go back on schedule tomorrow. It’s going to suck to leave you, really it is. I’m excited to be back with the guys but-"

“Mark.” You interrupted, his gaze returning to you. You jokingly snapped your index finger over his silky lips and giggled as he pouted. “Stop, it’s okay. I know you love being with them, and all I could ever want is for you to be happy, dummy.”

“I just hate leaving you, I love being with you.” He replied, once again reverting his gaze to skim across the city laid out before you both. “You know that.”

“I hate leaving you too.” You whispered in reply, a physical ache rising in your heart with each beat. Every time Mark left to go back on whatever tour he and his band were due to be on, you spent all your days longing and waiting on his return. You’d always thought the idea of ‘never being able to live without someone’ was ridiculous, a trope used in novels and books just to exaggerate the feelings of those involved in it; but with Mark, it was real.

You rested your head against Mark’s shoulder, his hand tracing carefully up and down the side of your arm in comfort and caring attempts to try and warm you up the best he could, as he felt you shaking slightly beside him. He pulled you in unbelievably close, the both of you becoming one, your heartbeats synchronising as the sun begun to rise in the sky. It’s softened rays made the fresh layer of snow that lay over the town illuminate, the sky turning the most stunning turquoise colour with dashes of pearl white clouds that spiralled and puffed in uneven intervals. Accompanied by the sound of your boyfriend’s heart lightly thumping in your ear, you’d never felt more at home, more at peace; you’d never felt such an overwhelming feeling of pure, genuine happiness and security.

“Hey, you still wear that bracelet!” Mark observed suddenly, an almost unnoticeable giggle leaving his lips as he took your hand in his. His skin was soft, and your heart leapt up in to your throat as he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb, beaming down at the tattered material bracelet that delicately wired itself around your wrist. It was purple, white and yellow, the most frail strings all so carefully plaited together, with a modest, miniscule silver heart charm dangling from it.

“I sure do.” You smiled at him, watching fondly as he moved your arm up to him. “You remember getting me this?” He lifted his head, excitement slapped right across it. Birds had begun to sing in the sky as he begun his recollection of that night.

“We were eighteen years old, right?” You nodded. “It was our prom night. We’d been dating for a few months but I had this whole thing planned, asking you to be my prom date so I could later ask to make our relationship official; I nearly threw up because I was so nervous.”

“You did throw up.” You sniggered.

“Wait-“

“You really think your friends never told me? You really think Donghyuck of all people would keep _that_ kind of tea to himself? That immediately after I accepted your prom offer, you sprinted to the toilet to throw up your nerves?” Your laughter broke in to howls, as Mark’s cheeks flashed pink.

“Anyway,” He continued loudly, diluting the topic. “When it got late, everyone was drunk except for us, so it was boring in there, so we went outside to watch the sun rising just like right now. I gave you the bracelet and asked you to officially be my girlfriend...” His voice begun to trail off uncharacteristically, causing you to slide your fingers in to his and clasp his hand tightly. Mark paused, staring at the string around your wrist before puffing a huge breath out and tightening his grip around your hand, standing you both up and catching the blanket in his other hand as it fell.

“Come on, we don’t have to leave until the afternoon tomorrow – well, today – so we can still get some more sleep in.”

“But-“ You felt slight concern as to why he’d cut off this story that he’d so willingly preached to anyone who would listen before today.

“We both have loads of travelling to do. It’s for our best interests.” He let go of your hand, disappearing back in to the hotel room.

***

When you woke again it was well in to the afternoon - almost three o’clock to be exact – and again you woke to find Mark had already got out of bed long before you had stirred. This time you could smell the strong scent of his cologne hanging in the air, the now fully-risen sun stabbing at your droopy, sore eyes as you heard the shuffling of Mark dressing himself in the en-suite, the door open slightly so you could see his shadow moving. As you sat up in the bed and stretched, the movement and sound stopped. “Mark baby I’m up! How long until my flight?” You ask, ready to prepare yourself for leaving him. A sniff came from the bathroom, followed by a growl as Mark cleared his throat, before the door opened and he appeared; black ripped jeans and a grey hoodie with his hair a caramel brown, his black roots beginning to show through. He looked noticeable drained, his face seeming thinner and eyes more tired. His shoulders slumped and as he moved to you; you noticed how he was twirling his thumbs, interlocking and removing his hands from one another.

He perched himself carefully on the edge of the bed, chewing on his dry lips enough to draw a tiny bead of ruby blood, that he quickly wiped away with the back of his sleeve. “Is everything okay?” You asked him, panic swiftly beginning to bubble in the bottom of your stomach, rising like magma in a volcano, burning your insides mercilessly. Mark said nothing, just gently shook his head so his brown locks shook from left to right. You went to take his hand but he snapped them away, placing them spread out on his thighs as he scrunched his face up and growled angrily at himself, his hands then moving as his head dropped in to them. “Talk to me, sweetheart what’s wrong?”

Mark looked up slowly. Your eyes met and you saw the star sparkle dim gradually, before leaving his eye with a drop of salty water that trailed down his cheek and dropped in to his lap. A frown appeared on your eyebrows; a mark of concern. You watched as your boyfriend scraped his hands up and down his thighs as groans of inner pain left his mouth, his head being thrown from left to right as he winced to find words to say.

“I’ve been up for a few hours just… thinking.” He started, fidgeting still as he lifted his legs to sit opposite you on the bed, the blanket still covering up to your hips.

“About?” You asked, tilting your head to the side in confusion.

“This schedule coming up is,” He scrunched his face, his fingers tangling in to his hair. “Longer than the others have been before. We go back to Korea tonight, stay there for a week then we go to Japan for a month; then we’re touring the whole of Europe before coming back and being allowed any more family time.” He was using his hands as extra expression, but everything was a blur to you as your heart begun to thud and sweat formed on your temples. You blinked hard and swallowed, trying to listen to the words he was saying to you, but they bounced around your head and echoed through your ears. “I just don’t want you to be upset,” He swallowed. “Or alone.”

“What do you mean?” You blurted, before sighing and rephrasing. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

Your throat had grown dry, your eyes the opposite as they followed suit; tears spilling down your cheeks as your nose became congested yet runny, sniffing hard while your breath hitched several times, stopping and starting like a broken-down car engine.

“I think maybe it’s best if we split.” He said it quickly, before pursing his lips and clenching his jaw. Mark too was crying, rivers flowing now, scraping past his cheekbones and pouring off his chin.

“What kind of nonsense?” You asked, trying to force a laugh; clawing desperately to convince yourself this was all a terrible prank and Mark’s bandmates would bust through the door at any second, cackling and whooping at their success of frightening you for a few moments. But as silence seeped in to the room, a silence that deafened you, the whole atmosphere turned clammy, your palms beginning to line with a thick layer of sweat, your head feeling tight.

“I don’t want to do this, really I don't,” Mark gasped suddenly, your name falling from his lips in a mere whisper as if it stung his tongue to say such things. “But it’s best for both of us. It’s just the wrong time right now, maybe we’ll meet in the future under better circumstances, where we can see each other more, be able to give each other the attention we both deserve. You’re due to fly home, I’m going to my parents’ house until the flight with the team later on tonight-” He was rambling, his speech urgent and alarmed, as if seeking to put a point across but failing due to its toughness. You understood, but it hurt; the one you loved, trusted more than anyone, had just injected a poisonous melancholy in to your veins and it ached as it took over your being.

“Please go.” You forced the words out, they were impulsive and followed by instant regret, but they were there – hanging between you both. Just dangling. You looked up at him, pushing your hair behind your ears and choking up when you saw his dishevelled, tear-stained face. “Go.” You repeated it, more stern this time, pulling your legs from underneath the blanket and pacing swiftly over to the window. You drew back the door, which creaked loudly as it slid, fresh air sucking in to your lungs as you clenched your jaw and fought back tears that threatened to begin spilling again.

Seconds later you heard the undeniable shuffle of shoes being pulled on to feet, the click of a suitcase handle being lifted, and the huff of a broken man exhaling a final breath.

“Goodbye, and uh- thank you. Until whenever?” A broken, gravelly whisper begged for a reply, but didn’t get one.

Then a door closing.

When you went to hook your index finger in to your bracelet, as had become habit in more recent times, you noticed it was no longer in its usual place. _He just wanted to take back what he’d spent his money on_ , you agreed with yourself, anger too now beginning to mix itself in to a lather of emotions that grew inside you. _Give it to some other girl_. You turned and walked back toward the room’s door, spinning the silver ball on the mahogany so it locked. It was on your return to the balcony that you spotted something, laying on the floor just underneath the bed. Mark’s cologne.

“Must’ve knocked it off the desk in my panic to switch the light on last night.” You snuffed, picking it up before tossing it carelessly on to the wrecked bed sheets.

Staring blankly and emotionless out across the street as you moved on to the balcony, you saw Mark leave. He walked away from you, as if it was any other day for him, off out on tour with his big famous band, soon he’d be smiling and laughing as he smashed his performances just like always. His life wouldn’t be changed in the slightest. But yours – your whole world had come crashing down around you, you were left with nothing now.

“I love you. As long as I live, I’m never letting you forget that.” You recalled his words from that night you’d fallen ill. “I love you more; don’t ever forget that.” That's what he had said to you last night before you fell asleep in his embrace.

“Mark, I couldn’t ever forget our love. But what if _you_ forget?” Your speech was blocked by a sob rising in your throat.

“ _What if you forget?_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time ever writing an ' x reader ' fic so I apologise profusely if it was absolutely terrible - I also know I ramble far too much, but I tried! Constructive criticism and thoughts are always appreciated! I kind of have ideas for a second part to this so if you do read it and want a second part let me know in the comments !


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